


I can't remember to forget you

by AngelaChristian



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drunk!Sherlock, M/M, Oral Sex, Virgin!Sherlock, drunk!lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1612529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaChristian/pseuds/AngelaChristian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teaser :<br/>Despite his extraordinary observation skills Sherlock hadn’t noticed until then,what a pretty face Inspector Lestrade had. This wasn’t the way he normally described or perceived people; “pretty” was imprecise and judging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't remember to forget you

**Author's Note:**

> This is set before "Like a virgin".  
> Disclaimer : Sherlock Holmes belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I don't make money with this.

Can’t remember to forget you 

 

Sherlock was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a book, when the doorbell rang. Was John already coming back home from his date ? That early wasn’t a good sign. He raised and went to the door. To his surprise , it wasn’t him but Detective Inspector Lestrade , who was holding a bottle of Whiskey in one hand, while using the other one to support himself. He couldn’t imagine that he wanted to see him in this condition because of a case. “Sherlock …” he stuttered “You were right, my wife’s having an affair. I investigated, too !” Then he giggled. “I can catch every criminal in London and find evidence for anything, see all the clues , but did I see what was happening right in front of my eyes ???”  
“I assume the answer is no.” Sherlock said without compassion.  
“Right.” He looked down onto the floor, while his eyes filled with tears and blinked several times before he looked up again. He stepped forward, but stumbled, so Sherlock had to keep him from falling by wrapping his arm around his waist and pushing him onto the couch. Although Sherlock was taller , the Inspector was heavier than he looked. Now he was hiding his face behind his hands while massaging his forehead. Sherlock closed the door, but didn’t know what to do. He had no idea about marriage or marriage problems, John was the one who had experience with relationships and drunk people., but where was he , when he needed him most ?  
Lestrade sobbed behind his hands. His shoulders were shaking. Sherlock sat down on the couch next to him. Then the Inspector reached out for the bottle standing on the floor, but Sherlock took it away. “I think you have had enough.”  
“I want the bottle back !” he insisted and reach for it again.  
Defiantly Sherlock opened it and took a big sip. For a second the taste made him cringed and cough. Lestrade giggled. “You’re not used to drinking , are you ?”  
Sherlock took another sip. The taste was still awful , but he got used to it.  
“You can’t drink it all. It’s too much left. Just give me a little bit, it’s my bottle after all.”  
“No way.” He went on drinking. After a moment, he felt his body relax, but the temperature in the room seemed to rise. The Inspector made him nervous. He usually didn’t sit that close to him. But why was that suddenly a problem ? Sherlock’s heart was beating faster whenever their eyes met.  
Lestrade was watching him. Sherlock’s sensual lips touched the bottle, sucked on it, his tongue licked over the rim, teasing it. He couldn’t take his eyes of him. Sherlock had gorgeous heart shaped lips which was unusual for a man, but rather sexy. When he met him for the first time at his office; Mycroft had recommended him for his remarkable deduction skills , he wondered what was going on with this man. He was a policeman for so many years that he knew people, noticed, if they had something to hide or were pretending, but Sherlock remained a mystery to him. With Mycroft, things were much easier, although not obvious for most observers.  
Sherlock felt his eyes on him, his huge brown longing eyes. Longing ? This must be the alcohol going to his head, making him see things that weren’t there, Lestrade still was a married man. Despite his extraordinary observation skills he hadn’t noticed until then,what a pretty face he had. This wasn’t the way he normally described or perceived people; “pretty” was imprecise and judgmental. His normally decently combed grey hair was disheveled from running his fingers through with fringes hanging into his eyes, making him look younger. Their eyes met. Sherlock’s breath went faster. What was this sudden tension between them ?  
Lestrade reached out for the bottle and took it out of Sherlock’s hand, then leaned over and quickly kissed him on his lips. Sherlock was too surprised to react. He just starred at the other man in disbelieve, thinking, that he was dreaming, having a rather vivid dream.  
Lestrade noticed his hesitation. “Sherlock, I’m sorry if I went too far. I think I better go now. “  
“Don’t” He wrapped his arms around Lestrade’s neck and returned the kiss.  
Sherlock’s lips felt soft and wet, sucking on his lower lip, parting his lips and pushing his tongue into his mouth, making him gasp for air. The kiss was clumsy, but passionate. It seemed that he wasn’t used to kissing, either. How was that possible at his age ? But again, with somebody as eccentric as Sherlock you had to expect anything. He moved his hand up his thigh, while kissing. Sherlock didn’t protest when he moved his hand further up and touched his groin.  
He pulled his slim body closer, while Sherlock fumbled on his long coat, that he was now tangled in then succeed in pulling it down over his shoulders. Meanwhile his hands unbuttoned Sherlock’s shirt, who was reaching for his belt. Then they were rolling naked on the couch, their clothes were spread over the floor.  
Panting, Sherlock sat on top of Lestrade’s legs, who let his hand move down over his flat belly. He involuntarily held his breath, when it reached its aim, then he closed his eyes. He felt his other hand moving over his buttocks, then started caressing parts of his body that had never been touched before. Sherlock moaned silently in rhythm with every touch of his hands.  
Lestrade enjoyed what he saw. Sherlock had a fantastic body, slim and firm, but still muscular under the light skin. Despite his age, he had a boyish innocence, that he was about to take from him. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him on top of himself, then kissed him again. “ I want you to give me a blow job.”, he whispered into his ear. Sherlock nodded, although he had never done this before, but the alcohol made him forget his inhibitions. Lestrade pushed his head down into his lap, then felt his tongue and lips licking and sucking him.  
“Oh Sherlock,… this is good,…oh…jaahhaaa…ha…go one like that…oh fuck…!” Lestrade grimaced with pleasure.  
Sherlock felt encouraged to go on and sucked him harder, while his other hand started to play with himself. Making the Inspector moan and sigh was a big turn-on to him. The Inspector who seemed to not even like him much, but secretly wanted him. He felt superior , he could do anything to him , now. He raised his head, an evil sparkling in his eyes. “Your turn !” he ordered.  
Lestrade blinked with surprise, but obeyed. He kneeled down in front of the couch between Sherlock’s legs. Then Sherlock reach out for his trousers, that laid on the floor, pulled the belt out of it and used it to tie Lestrade’s hands up onto his back.  
“You got to obey me, your Master,” he ordered.  
He nodded, although he wasn’t sure whether he’d like the way things were going or not.  
“Now, suck my cock !”  
Again, he obeyed and bent over his lap. Sherlock chewed on his lower lip in order to avoid making any sound. This was exactly it. His breath went faster. God, yes…yes…oh …yes…! He felt that he was close to coming, grabbed his head and pushed it further down into his lap.  
Lestrade felt the tension in the other man’s body, as well as in his own. God, he wished, he could touch himself.  
“Swallow it”, he panted, then closed his eyes and held his breath.  
A second later, he felt warm liquid running over his tongue and chin. Sherlock tried to catch his breath then opened his eyes.”Well done.” He leaned forward in order to wipe over his chin, before he touched Lestrade’s cock. Their eyes met again, when he looked up.  
“Oh… Sherlock…I’m…” the rest of his words were lost in a loud grunt. 

When John returned late at night, he tried to be quiet, but nevertheless he woke up Sherlock, who was asleep on the couch in the living room.  
“Damn, Sherlock, some drunk idiot puked onto the pavement right in front of our door, I almost stepped into that mess, but I won’t clean that up, no way “  
In return, he mumbled something about having had an odd dream or something , but fell asleep right after, again. Then he noticed something laying on the floor, a small object, that looked like a black leather purse. He picked it up in order to have a closer look. To his surprise , it turned out to be Inspector Lestrade’s badge. He had not seen Greg for a while, it had been over a month since his last visit to Baker street. Had it been there for all this time without being noticed ? John decided to call him the following morning. And his middle name was Dominic…  
Lestrade neither knew where he was nor could he remember how he got there. The last hours were like wiped from his memory. Carefully he blinked , but the sunlight hurt his eyes , so he pinched them close again. The world in front of his eyes seemed to be turning like a merry-go-round, making him feel dizzy and sick. He felt something soft and fluffy under his head and hands. Then he remembered where he was; at home laying on the rug in the bathroom. He must have had either fallen asleep or past out in there. A wave of nausea made him rush to the toilet, which he reached just in time. After he was done, he flushed the toilet and stayed sitting on the floor next to it. His mobile phone beeped. He reached for his coat, that was laying on the bath room floor, opened the zipper of the inner pocket and looked at the display; John had sent him a message telling him, that he had found his badge in his apartment. This was strange, he couldn’t remember to have been there in a while and he didn’t miss it, yet. What had he done in Baker street ? 

The end


End file.
